


Beside Your Red Firelight

by Vulgarweed



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, Young Man Your Car Is On Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 13:50:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19427245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulgarweed/pseuds/Vulgarweed
Summary: The Bentley has picked up some expressive qualities of its own since the Abotchalypse. Some mortals might find some manifestations alarming, but Aziraphale is very difficult to shock these days. Written for the 666 Fics Fics Fics weekly challenge. My first show-verse GO fic!





	Beside Your Red Firelight

He’d hoped for silence - not blessed silence but some other kind, the kind filled with lusty, happy little sounds - but that was not what he got when the edge of a huge white wing smacked the Bentley’s dashboard.

OHHHH, WON’T YOU TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT

Crowley sighed and nuzzled into the crook of Aziraphale’s increasingly bare shoulder.

OHHH, DOWN BESIDE THAT RED FIRELIGHT

Which was what he saw in the corner of his eyes, but he decided to ignore it as he bit down lightly.

OHHH, YOU’RE GONNA LET IT ALL HANG OUT

With one unnecessary magical twist of Aziraphale’s wrist, Crowley was definitely letting it all hang out, and pushing insistently in between plump thighs.

“Fat-bottomed angels make the rockin’ world go round,” he muttered into Aziraphale’s ear as he grabbed a generous double handful. Aziraphale gave an affronted little grunt but he squirmed against Crowley in a way that suggested he was willing to express his offense carnally. His thighs squeezed and Crowley moaned as he drove his sharp hips in between, hoping to leave little bruises in pale flesh so he could soothe them away with nippy, licking kisses later.

“Crowley, dear,” Aziraphale said, pulling on Crowley’s hair. “Just - there’s a problem, I think.”

“What’s wrong?” Crowley growled, looking down on him, trying not to be worried. “You don’t like it?”

“Oh, I do, I do,” Aziraphale said. “Only...isn’t it warm in here?”

“Hot. Sssteamy. That’sss how it should be. SSex is hot, everyone knows that.”

Didn’t everyone get flames in their peripheral vision when they were so ridiculously aroused by a fussy angel now wearing nothing but a crooked bowtie and spasmodically twitching feathers? Apparently not.

“Your car is on fire,” Aziraphale said matter-of-factly. This obvious fact was doing nothing to deter Crowley’s progress towards burying himself as deep into Aziraphale as he could get.

“She does that sometimes,” Crowley muttered. “Since...you know.” He hoisted Aziraphale upwards, kissing his way down that soft, pale chest and detouring at peaked dusky-pink nipples, cherishing each little gasp and whimper, the tiny wet sound of a bitten lip bursting like lightning over the thunder of Queen and fire. “Won’t burn again. It’s just - full-body glove, you know.” He gave a desperate little wriggle, as Aziraphale leaned forward and shimmied his hips more tightly onto Crowley’s lap.

His need felt like the rush of standing in hellfire unharmed, blowing flame like a dragon into Gabriel’s hateful mug while wearing Aziraphale’s face. Like seeing Hastur burn away into embers, as Crowley roared on towards Destiny. But now all of that with Aziraphale in his arms, eager and warm and open, all white and gold and shining, flames reflected bright on his unburnt wings. Haloed and holy and _his._

GET ON YOUR BIKES AND RIDE

Aziraphale’s wings should not be able to beat like that in the confined space, but normal atomic behaviour was temporarily suspended as the angel mounted Crowley’s hips and took him in, all warm clenching softness and everything that Heaven should be and wasn’t. Crowley gave a strangled cry and let his head fall back on leather. The Bentley’s fire was one with his, and it was protective and cleansing. “So _very_ hot my dear,” Aziraphale moaned, and his tongue was a lick of sweet flame in Crowley’s mouth as he started to move.

Sirens wailed in the distance, and they were not all in Crowley’s head. Oh, _bless_ well-meaning people, he cursed as Aziraphale rode him faster. He just hoped they’d get to come before the water hoses hit. But as he grasped Aziraphale’s hips, and as he gazed up into Aziraphale’s beatific face, he saw the telling twinkle of an eye as the Bentley moved - and he knew that the rising sensation he felt was real, and if he looked _down_ past the wall of fire in the window he would see the lights of London below like stars. He gazed at the points of light in Aziraphale’s eyes instead.


End file.
